


Autumn comes to Asgard

by winter_writes



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie is a Good Bro (Marvel), Character Death, Devotion, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I promise that this has a happy ending, Insecurity, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki is a BAMF, Love Letters, Love Triangles, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Self-Esteem Issues, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Tenderness, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Valkyrie is a badass, and other kisses after that..., eventual mutual pining, sigyn is a bamf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_writes/pseuds/winter_writes
Summary: Little does she know it, but Loki has been in love with Lady Sigyn for years. He believes that she’ll never love him back because he’s a Jotunn, so he stays silent about his feelings.When Sigyn falls in love with the beautiful but tongue-tied Balder, Loki and Balder hatch a plan: Loki will teach Balder what to say to woo Sigyn. Balder will be with the woman he loves, Sigyn will believe that she’s found the perfect man, and Loki will get to tell Sigyn how he feels, after a fashion.It’ll all work out in the end, right?Right?(A Logyn Cyrano de Bergerac AU)
Relationships: Balder/Sigyn, Loki/Sigyn
Kudos: 10





	1. The Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: a skald is an ancient Scandanavian term for a court poet.

Balder wished he didn’t feel like such an outsider. He knew he shouldn’t feel so out of place – after all, he was Asgardian born and bred. 

But the fact remained that, in spite of his high birth, he would probably never have come to Asgard’s court if it weren’t for the war against the rock trolls. As things were, he’d just enlisted in the Asgardian army like any decent man would, and until he was sent out to fight he’d be staying in the royal court as befitted a man of his station. 

His clothes were decades out of fashion. He hoped that it wasn’t too obvious. 

Luckily, he wasn’t all on his own. His family’s lands were in the northernmost part of Asgard, vast but remote, and several decades ago they’d employed a skald to entertain them through the long winter nights. Since he’d left their service, Kvasir had found fame and fortune at the court of Asgard, but he remembered Balder fondly enough to show him around until he learned the ways of court. 

This involved getting out and meeting people, so today they were going to see a play. 

The hall they sat in was large and airy, carved of pale stone. A stage had been set up on one side, with rows of gold chairs facing it. Already the seats were mostly full, though the actors were yet to appear. 

Kvasir was murmuring to Balder, discreetly pointing out notable members of the court, giving their names and a few pieces of useful information about each one. 

Balder leaned over and interrupted quietly, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” 

“Ask away, my friend.” 

“Yesterday, I was taking a walk through Asgard, and I saw – a woman. I didn’t feel confident enough to introduce myself, especially because I’ve only just arrived here, but… she was very, very beautiful. I’d like to know her better.” Gods, he could feel himself blushing. 

“Was she dressed like a lady of the court?” 

“Yes.” It hadn’t just been the way she was dressed that had attracted him to her. Nor was it simply her beauty, though she had plenty of that. It had been something about the way she walked, the way she held her head. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since. 

“If she’s a courtier, she might be here,” said Kvasir encouragingly. “If you see her, point her out and I’ll tell you who she is. If you’re lucky then I might even know her well enough to merit an introduction.” 

At this moment, they were interrupted. A tall, muscular woman with dark brown skin slid into the chair beside Kvasir. “Afternoon.” she said. 

Kvasir introduced them. “This is Balder, Lord of Annar. Balder, this is Brunhilde, she used to captain the Valkyries.” 

Brunhilde made a face. “Until Odin conveniently forgot that women can fight and had us disbanded. Now I run a tavern. Though it _is_ the best tavern in the city.” She looked around. “The princes aren’t here yet? It’s not like Loki to miss a play.” 

“No,” repeated Kvasir. 

They talked among themselves for a few minutes. Brunhilde’s job meant that she knew everyone and anyone, not just the high folk but ordinary people as well. Balder might not know many at court, but with two people like Kvasir and Brunhilde helping him, his introduction to court life was starting off rather well. 

There was a sudden disturbance by the door as the princes arrived. 

Prince Thor was strapping, broad shouldered and blond, dressed in grey armour and a red cape. Prince Loki, on the other hand – 

“He’s a Jotunn?” exclaimed Balder, surprise keeping his voice quiet. 

Kvasir and Brunhilde shh-ed him in unison. 

“Do not ever, _ever_ mention that where he can hear you,” said Brunhilde. “Yes, he’s a Jotunn. Odin took him as a hostage in the war against Jotunheim centuries ago and raised him up as a second son.” 

“And if anyone takes issue with his heritage, Loki invites them to prove their point against his daggers,” added Kvasir. “So don’t bring it up. Ever.” 

“I’m an accomplished warrior,” said Balder, not liking the implication that he could be bested by a Jotunn princeling. 

“I’m sure that’s true,” said Brunhilde, “But he’s the only person who’s ever given me a challenge when we spar, and I used to lead Odin’s army. Think on that, Balder.” 

“He’s good?” asked Balder. 

“He’s exceptional,” replied Brunhilde. “You’ll have to make yourself like him,” she continued, “He leads the Crimson Hawks. He’ll be your commanding officer soon.” 

Balder took another look at the Jotunn prince. Black hair. Clothes of green, gold, and black that were as fashionable as Balder’s were dated. Like all his race his skin was a deep blue, matched with bold red eyes. 

Could Balder take orders from a Jotunn? He wasn’t sure. 

The princes seated themselves in the audience, and things calmed down for a moment, before there was a small commotion as most of the men in the room (and a few women) started looking intently at the entrance again. 

Around the hall, Balder could hear quiet comments of admiration. 

“That’s her,” he said, unable to look away from the woman who had just entered. “Please, Kvasir, who is she?” 

“That’s the Lady Sigyn,” said Kvasir. 

“Sigyn,” whispered Balder to himself. Truly she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Golden hair braided away from a face that was as perfect as could be. Dressed in purple silk, she drew the eyes of almost everyone in the room. 

“What’s she like?” he asked. 

“Witty,” said Kvasir. “A true patron of the arts, so obviously I like her very much. Fiercely intelligent. And kind, which is just as important.” 

“Is she – she’d clearly not married, but is she –” 

“Well, her parents wouldn’t object to your suit,” Kvasir told him. “But I wish I could say that she was completely free. Orphan as she is, she’s under the eye of Cul Borson, younger brother of Odin.” He indicated a vicious-looking man with black hair who was just entering. Cul walked over to Sigyn and said a few words to her. Clearly uncomfortable, Sigyn’s shoulders relaxed as he walked away again. “She’s not nearly as fond of Cul as he’d like, and Cul’s forbidden to marry in case his union produced contenders to the throne, so he couldn’t wed her even if she did like him, but he won’t let that stop him. He has this plan, you see, to marry her to his crony Theoric.” 

Kvasir indicated a brown-haired man dressed in red and green. “The scheme is that Cul will use his position as a royal to bully Sigyn into marrying Theoric, and then Cul can visit her bed whenever he likes. Sigyn’s a strong woman in her heart, and she doesn’t want to be used like that, but look at them. Can you picture her fighting the two of them off, and winning?” 

Balder didn’t want to picture it. In a fight, Cul could snap Sigyn’s body like a twig, but given what Kvasir had told him, the brother of Odin would probably do something even worse. 

“Is there no way to stop it?” Balder asked. “Surely there must be something we can do.” 

Kvasir shrugged sadly. “I’d hate to see Sigyn used like that, but I’m only a humble poet. I did what I could, fighting in the only way I can: I published an anonymous pamphlet exposing Cul’s plan. I wish I could say that was enough to dissuade him, but I have my doubts.” 

Balder set his jaw. “I have to do something, Kvasir. I’m no poet, but I can still fight.” 

He made as if to rise from his chair, but Kvasir grabbed his arm and kept him seated. “She’s looking at you,” the poet hissed. 

And so she was. The Lady Sigyn took a long look at Balder, smiled sweetly, then turned away. 

The play began. 

* 

The play began, and it was not very good. Balder hadn’t been to many plays, but even he could tell that it was sub-par. 

The main actor, Fandral – apparently also a courtier – kept looking out at the audience after he spoke, stroking his ego. It made the whole thing tedious. 

Finally, someone voiced what Balder (and probably the entire rest of the audience) was thinking: Prince Loki called out, “Is there an interval, or shall we be forced to suffer the rest of this play without a respite?” 

Fandral bristled, “Now see here –” 

“I’d rather not. I’d rather not be listening, too. In fact, I think my life and everyone else’s would be improved if you just got off the stage and left.” 

“He shouldn’t have to take that from a Jotunn,” said Theoric bluntly. 

There was a collective drawing of breath in the room. 

Watching Loki, Balder saw the prince’s expression change from casual mockery to cold-blooded fury. 

“Jotunn?” said Loki, making the word sound like nothing at all. “Really? Is that it? Is that the best insult you have to offer?” 

Theoric laughed. 

Loki stood. “A shame. It seems that’s all the insult your brain can conjure. You could have mocked my species in a hundred ways, but you failed to find even one. So much possibility to talk me into the ground, and you couldn’t. Please, allow me to educate you on how insults actually work. For example; aggressive: ‘What is it like to be a savage?’; friendly: ‘Well, it must be enjoyable to have such an unusual colour of skin!’; descriptive: call me azure, cobalt, ultramarine, sapphire; curious: ‘Why, I expected you to have pointed teeth! Do you hide horns under your hair, do you have a tail?’; truculent: ‘How does it feel to be born from Asgard’s enemies?’; considerate: ‘Don’t forget to file your claws down, else you might scratch yourself by accident!’” 

Loki was in his element now, his smile as cutting as his words. He traced a finger over the markings on his cheek. “Or perhaps you could ask me if it’s true – do Jotunn mothers really scar their babes in the cradle? Maybe you could be more cavalier and remind me that blue skin is not currently in fashion. Or else be emphatic: ‘Well clearly you’ll never fear the cold!’; dramatic: ‘How much Asgardian blood was shed by your forbears?’; admiring: ‘Such a refreshing change from looking at an Asgardian!’; lyric: ‘A creature out of legend!’; simple: ‘Do you ever scare children?’; emotive: ‘You’re a monster and will always remain such.’; military: ‘Tell me, prince, how many of your kind did your royal father kill?’; practical: ‘You should exhibit yourself at fairs, charge a coin for people to view you.’. Or try being poetic. Talk about how I stalk about like a creature of the night, a traitor to Asgard just by breathing. Any or all of these things you could have said to me, and you settled for simply calling me what I am: a Jotunn, which is not something that I would ever deny. And yes, I did just list twenty ways to insult myself, but never forget, Theoric,” Loki spat the name as if it were a fouler insult than anything he’d said before, “I allow myself to say these things, but for any man apart from me who wishes to comment upon my heritage…” 

A knife appeared in each of Loki’s hands. 

In response, Theoric drew his sword. “A duel it is.” 

The two men moved to a space in front of the stage, poised and ready. 

Theoric lunged with his sword, and Loki deflected it with both his daggers. A kick to Theoric’s knee, an elbow strike to the back of his neck, and then Loki had one knee on Theoric’s sword arm, the other on his back, and both daggers at his throat. 

Loki’s voice was soft in the silence that followed. “Now would be a prudent time to surrender.” 

“I yield,” Theoric spat. 

Loki smirked and stood, kicking Theoric’s sword out of his hand. The silence continued until Thor stood up applauding, “Excellent, brother!” 

Following their crown prince’s lead, the others in the hall joined in. 

* 

The hall was empty except for Thor and Loki; everyone else had left. 

“You didn’t need to make them applaud me, Thor,” said Loki softly. 

“They weren’t going to do it otherwise,” his brother replied, “Because – well, we both know why. You deserved some recognition for knocking Theoric into the dust.” A moment of silence. “And you didn’t need to criticise Fandral so loudly, but you did it anyway.” 

“The play was awful.” 

“Bad, maybe, but not awful. Besides, if a play’s bad you usually make sarcastic comments in my ear through all of it and don’t openly deride it until the end. That was something different. What on earth did Fandral do to anger you so?” 

Loki paced to and fro for a time, gathering his thoughts until he spoke. “It’s the way he treats them,” he said finally. 

“Treats who?” 

“Women. Fandral seduces them, uses them, discards them like they’re worth nothing more than a handkerchief. Undresses maids with his eyes as he walks through the palace, and they’re all too afraid to say no. Then, during the play, he dared turn his eyes upon _her_.” 

“Who?” 

“Sigyn.” 

“You have feelings for Sigyn?” 

“Yes,” said Loki bitterly. “How could I not? There’s not a rose in existence sweeter than her. Anyone who sees her smile can know true beauty and be content. I see her striding around Asgard, head held high, confident, her golden hair sliding over her shoulder…” 

“Then tell her!” exclaimed Thor. “She just saw you beat a man in a duel, now’s the perfect time!” 

Loki whirled. “Look at me, Thor. I’m a Jotunn. I am the monster parents tell their children about at night. Even if I thought there was a chance she could love me back, I would never ask her to try and love _this_ ,” he said bitterly, gesturing to himself. “Sometimes I go out in the evenings, walk around Asgard hooded and cloaked, anonymous. I see couples walking in the gardens, arm in arm, secure in their mutual love. I think to myself that perhaps she and I could be like that someday. After all, I’m young, educated, a prince. Why shouldn’t I be desirable? Then I look down and I see my hands, the blue, the markings, and I remember. What would she do with me? Stare into my eyes, dreamily thinking about how they’re the exact colour of entrails?” 

Thor squeezed Loki’s shoulder briefly. “Come now, don’t give up hope so easily. You should have seen her watching the fight. Before it started she was white with fear. She didn’t relax until you’d won.” 

“She didn’t?” 

A knock at the door. 

Both princes turned to see Ran, Sigyn’s maid, enter. She curtsied. “My mistress bid me take a message to Prince Loki. She asks for you to meet with her privately.” 

“She wants to see me?” Loki breathed. 

“Yes, sir. Discreetly. From what I understand, she has something to tell you. Something very private. Is there somewhere she could meet you tomorrow morning, where it’s guaranteed that the two of you could not be overheard?” 

“I – yes, tell her to go to Brunhilde’s tavern. We can use the back room there.” 

“Very good, sir. I’ll tell her the same.” Another curtsey, and Ran left them. 

Loki beamed. “She wants to meet me. In secret.” 

Thor grinned back at him. “See! What did I say?” 

“I – she –” for once Loki was lost for words. 

Which was when Kvasir burst into the room. 

“He found out,” said Kvasir, his face bloodless with terror. 

“Who?” asked Thor. 

“Cul. He found out that I was the one who wrote the pamphlet. He – I have it on good authority that he’s arranged an ambush for me. A hundred men. I don’t – you both know I’m not a fighter. Could you hide me, for a time? I’ll spend the night in the palace’s servants’ quarters or something.” 

Loki and Thor looked at each other. 

“A hundred men,” said Thor, running a finger along Mjolnir’s handle. 

Loki shrugged. “Given my morning… rendezvous, I doubt I’d be able to sleep anyway.” He turned to Kvasir. “You’ll sleep in your own home tonight. After Thor and I take care of those men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I’ve done the Twenty Insults Monologue justice.
> 
> This work is inspired by Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, though some credit also goes to the Martin Crimp adaptation.
> 
> In terms of parallels between the characters in Cyrano and the characters in this fic, we have:
> 
> Cyrano – Loki (after all, he’s the Silvertongue)  
> Roxane – Sigyn  
> Christian – Balder (after all, he’s Balder the Beautiful)  
> Le Bret – Thor  
> Ligniere – Kvasir (In Norse mythology, Kvasir was a wise man, and his blood created the mead of poetry)  
> Ragueneau – Brunhilde/Valkyrie (but she’s like, a much more badass version of Ragueneau)  
> De Guiche – Cul Borson (because they’re both arseholes)  
> Valvert – Theoric (because Theoric is courting Sigyn in the Marvel comics when Sigyn catches Loki’s eye)  
> Montfleury – Fandral (because they both have far too high an opinion of themselves)
> 
> Comments and kudos = love
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I am not making money from this work.


	2. The Tavern

Loki arrived an hour early. Partly because he couldn’t wait, and partly because he was starting to have doubts about his ability to voice his feelings to Sigyn. 

He knew that he was an eloquent speaker – he was Loki the Silvertongue, after all – but when it came to talking to Sigyn, to telling her how he really felt… he might make a mistake, and he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. 

So he came up with a different plan; he’d write a love letter. If, during their conversation, she gave a hint that she had feelings for him, then all he need do was put the letter into her hand. Besides, writing meant that he could edit his words to make sure they were as beautiful as Sigyn deserved. 

* 

Always willing to lend a hand, Brunhilde showed Sigyn into the back room of the tavern. 

Sigyn sighed inwardly. Cul had been getting more and more overbearing lately, so any stretch of time where it was guaranteed that he wouldn’t intrude on her life was a blessing, and she got to spend it in some of the best company that Asgard could offer. 

Loki rose when she entered (oh, he was such a prince sometimes), but she waved at him to sit down again, and she sat on the other side of the table facing him. 

He smiled at her. “Sigyn. Might I ask why you asked me to meet you?” 

She smiled back. “Well, first of all to thank you. After you humiliated him so publicly, Theoric lost his taste for marrying me, so that particular plan of Cul’s is thwarted. I get to have some breathing space before he tries to hatch the next scheme to get me into his bed.” 

Loki’s eyes turned serious. “I wish I could offer you more than a brief respite from Cul. You know I’d do anything to keep you away from him.” 

“I know. It’s – hard, sometimes. He’s trying to control everything about my life. There’s only so much he can do, but being the king’s brother gives him enough power to make my life difficult as it is. Last week, I actually climbed out of a window to avoid him!” 

“Really?” 

Sigyn laughed. “Yes, just like those games we used to play when we were children!” 

As an orphan from a minor noble family, Sigyn had been raised as a ward of the state at court. She and Loki, both outsiders, had been fast friends. 

In their childhood games, Loki had been both hero and villain: the vicious Jotunn who threatened Sigyn, and the brave Asgardian warrior who rescued her, and then they would pretend to fight their way out of the Jotunn’s castle, back to back. 

Sigyn briefly glanced down, then stared harder at what she saw: a line of dark red on blue skin. 

She took his hand, his skin slightly cooler than an Asgardian’s. “What happened here? Was it the fight? – I heard about that, you and Thor against a hundred men, very impressive – here, let me…” She waved her hand over the cut, casting a small charm to stave off infection and speed healing, then took out her handkerchief to bandage it up until the bleeding stopped. 

“Much better,” she said, giving his hand back. “Now, on to the main reason why I asked you here. There’s a man I like.” 

“There is?” said Loki, smiling softly. 

Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “Yes, but he doesn’t know that I like him back. Or not yet, at least.” 

“I see.” 

“Apparently he likes me too, but he’s afraid to talk to me about how he feels.” 

Loki nodded, encouraging her to speak on. 

“He’s in the Crimson Hawks, just like you.” 

“Like me,” said Loki, smiling still. 

“And he’s probably the handsomest man I’ve ever seen – what’s wrong?” 

Loki’s face had fallen. “It’s nothing,” he said hastily, “Just my hand. It’s not a bad wound, but it stings. Anyway, this man you were telling me about?” 

“Yes, well, I’m so lucky that I decided to go to the play last night, or I’d never have seen him at all. His name’s Balder, he’s Lord of Annar.” 

Loki frowned. “There’s no-one of that name in the Crimson Hawks.” 

“That’s because he’s only just joined, you see.” 

“So why did you ask me here?” asked Loki softly. 

“Cul is having me watched,” said Sigyn. “I’m doing my best, but it’s getting harder to be alone with someone. If he sees me taking serious interest in a man, he might try and drive us apart. I’ll still be able to see Balder at public events and get to know him better, but something more intimate might not be possible, so I thought, seeing as he’s joined the Hawks, perhaps you could tell him that he has my favour? I’d like him to write to me. Ran handles all my letters, there’s no way that Cul could prevent that. Do you think you could do that for me?” 

“Of course.” 

“Oh, thank you so much. You’re a true friend.” 

He waved the compliment away. “It’s nothing.” 

She stood to leave. “Thank you again.” 

* 

At training that day, many of the Crimson Hawks wanted to know about last night’s fight, and Loki was in no mood to regale them. 

Perhaps later. Perhaps when he wasn’t thinking about Sigyn. 

It was easy enough to pick out the newcomer. Loki knew his men. The Lord Balder fought well, and Loki couldn’t fault his looks. Damn him. 

Well, he’d have to face Sigyn’s favourite eventually. He might as well get it over with. 

He approached Balder, trying to keep himself calm. “You. The new one. I’d like to speak with you privately.” 

Balder followed him into an empty armoury. 

“It seems that we shall have to be friends,” said Loki frankly. 

“What? Why? Not that I wouldn’t want to, but…” he trailed off. 

“The Lady Sigyn. She and I grew up together. We were childhood friends.” 

He brightened visibly. “Sigyn?” 

“Yes. From what I’ve heard, you like her, and she told me today that the attraction is reciprocated. She’d like to know you better.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. She wants you to write to her.” 

Balder’s face fell. “Oh. Oh no.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He ran a hand through his perfect hair. “I’m terrible with words. Especially when I’m talking to a woman I have feelings for. I’ll never be able to win her like that. I’m not like you, I’m not the Silvertongue.” 

“That’s true,” said Loki, “But you’re an Asgardian, and fair of face; two epithets that will never be applied to me.” 

“Yes, but Sigyn… I keep hearing about how clever she is, how intellectual. I’m educated, but I’ll never be able to impress her.” 

It was at this point that an idea occurred to Loki. “We could do it together,” he said quietly. 

“Do what?” 

Loki turned more fully to face Balder. “Sigyn likes you, and from what I’ve heard around court, you’re a good man. Honourable. Worthy of her. I could teach you what to say when you’re with her. You know my reputation, you know what I can do with words.” 

Balder frowned. “Yes, but – what would you get out of it?” 

Loki feigned nonchalance. “Well, it would be a chance to practise my way with words. And I think there’s a fair chance that you could make Sigyn happy – certainly happier than Theoric would have made her.” _And I’ll get to tell her how I feel,_ he thought but did not say. _She could never love me as I am, but this way I’ll get to open my heart to her through an intermediary. She’ll hear my words and know that she is loved. And she will be loved, by both him and me._

__“I shall give you a letter for her by this evening,” he told Balder. There was no need for Balder to know that the letter was already written._ _


	3. The Kiss

“I was just going out,” Sigyn told Cul, who had called on her unexpectedly, not that he ever bothered to ask if he could visit her chambers, merely turning up whenever he wanted. 

“I came to bid you farewell,” he said. 

“Where are you going?” she asked, not really caring about the answer. 

“To battle. I leave tonight. Odin has named me commander, not just of the common soldiers but of the elites as well, the Crimson Hawks.” 

Sigyn did her best to hide her panic. “The Crimson Hawks?” 

“Yes. Headed by Loki. I’ll have my payback for the debacle at the theatre when I send his force into the fighting.” 

Balder. Balder was going to the war. No, this could not be, Sigyn could not let it happen. She had to do something. “How do you plan to take this vengeance? Send him into the thick of the fighting?” 

“Yes,” Cul crowed. 

“Really?” Sigyn studied her nails and did her best to look unimpressed. “But isn’t that exactly what he wants? Glory in battle, a chance to prove himself to Odin? If you actually wanted to hurt him, wouldn’t it be better to keep him and the whole regiment behind in Asgard while all the other fighters go off to win fame?” 

Cul roared with laughter. “Oh that is an excellent plan! Only a woman could think of a way to bring a man low like that!” 

“He’ll be furious,” Sigyn said, “But you’re his commanding officer, so he won’t even be allowed to say that he’s furious!” 

Cul’s smile turned slimy. “So, Lady Sigyn, may I take this scheming as a form of… affection?” 

She couldn’t risk Balder’s safety by a flat denial, so Sigyn only smiled. 

“There’s a room,” Cul said, and he told her the address of a house that was out of the way of anything interesting in Asgard. “Meet me there tonight. All will think I’ve gone to the war, but we’ll be together.” 

Sigyn felt her skin crawling. “No, it isn’t possible! You must be with your men. I could only love a man of honour.” She feigned sadness. “I could never ask you to desert your duty like that.” 

After some truly uninspired declarations of love from Cul, Sigyn finally got him out of the door to her chambers. 

“Well,” said Ran philosophically. “That was nauseating.” 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Sigyn agreed. 

* 

“… and he’s so witty,” Sigyn told Loki brightly. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, he could rival you!” she sighed. “I never thought it possible to find such a man. Handsome, kind, and brilliant with words.” 

“He’s eloquent, then?” 

“They’re not just simple love letters, it’s like an analysis, a whole treatise on love! Here this:” she recited a few sentences from her latest letter. “Isn’t that just stunning?” she said, once the recitation was done. 

“Do you love him?” Loki asked softly. “You must be fond, to memorise his letters like that.” 

Sigyn blushed delicately. “I think so. And if I’m not in love with him yet then I very soon will be. Though it’s strange. Sometimes it seems like he doesn’t know what to say at all, only to suddenly come out with something amazing.” 

“Maybe he gets overwhelmed by you.” 

Sigyn groaned. “Oh, don’t you start! I’m tired of men getting ‘overwhelmed’ by my looks. They use it as an excuse not to take me seriously – not you, of course. You know that you’re the exception, you’re my best friend.” She paused. “The only thing is, about Balder, sometimes the way he talks sounds almost practised. Unspontaneous, like he’s been rehearsing what to say to me. His words are always beautiful, but I get the feeling that there’s something going on in the background with him… I don’t know, it’s just intuition. But I have a plan. Tonight, I intend to make him improvise. But you mustn’t tell him that I plan to make him do that. If he expects it then it won’t work.” 

“I won’t breathe a word,” Loki lied. 

* 

“Sigyn intends to make you improvise,” said Loki, “But we can work with that, I can come up with something that sounds improvised, when in actual fact…” 

“No,” said Balder. 

“What?” 

Balder frowned. “I can’t keep doing this forever. It worked well enough at the start, but now I know that she loves me. Why can’t I talk to her naturally? With my own words?” 

Loki couldn’t quite keep the scepticism from his voice. “Are you sure? Don’t you want to at least have something to back you up?” 

“I’ll be fine,” said Balder. 

* 

She found him in one of the parks, and they sat together on a bench of carved stone. 

“I love you,” said Balder. 

She shut her eyes for a moment, let the cool breeze fan her face. “Yes, keep talking.” 

“I adore you.” 

“Yes, I know, you love me, and…?” 

“I love you so very much.” 

“ _And_ …?” 

“And I would be – be very happy if you said that you loved me too.” 

Sigyn sighed and stood. “So that’s it? That’s all you have to say?” 

“Sigyn –” 

“No, whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it. Do you have any idea how tired I am of men telling me that they love me? And none of them mean it. Either they’ve taken one look at my face and decided that basic physical attraction is equal to love, or they’re trying to get up my skirt and they think that claiming to love me is the quickest way to do it. And do you know how I test them? I ask them to expand on the subject of loving me, and do you know what happens then? They can’t do it. I thought you were different.” She whirled and left him there. 

He called after her. 

She didn’t turn back. 

* 

Balder had practically begged Loki to fix the mess he was in. So, like the lovesick fool he was, Loki agreed to help. 

Which was how he found himself standing next to Balder behind the bushes near Sigyn’s balcony. Balder would go stand under the balcony, his face in shadow so that Sigyn couldn’t tell that he wasn’t speaking. Meanwhile, Loki would be talking to her, imitating Balder’s voice. 

* 

Someone was throwing pebbles at the glass of Sigyn’s balcony. She set down her book and went to investigate. 

The man who stood below had his face in black shadow, but she recognised the form well enough. 

“You,” she said. 

“May I speak with you?” he called softly. 

Her reply was dripping with sarcasm. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, after your performance in the park this afternoon?” 

“Please!” 

“No. Did you ever even love me?” 

“With every passing moment I love you more and more. The more of my heart I give to you, the more love I find I have to give.” 

“…well that’s better than the last time we talked. What in stars’ name made you so inarticulate earlier?” 

“It was the first time we’d ever been alone together. So much that I wanted to say, no words felt adequate for the task. I was trying too hard to please…” 

She made her voice kinder. “You’re allowed to want to please me.” 

“I know. But your eyes are so bright that my mind grows clouded. This dusk makes it easier. You see the outline of my cloak; I see the white of your dress high above me, glimmering like a star. And to tell the truth, sometimes I worry about speaking too much. I wish to bring a comet down from the sky, but I hold myself back, restrict myself to picking a flower.” 

“Flowers can be sweet.” 

“Yes. But tonight, no holding back. Tonight I aim for the star.” 

“You’ve never spoken like this before,” Sigyn breathed. 

“Because before was only love-letters,” he replied, voice soft as silk, strong as heartbreak, “And it would be a crime to talk to you now with the mere baubles of phrases that I could risk writing in a love letter. To talk to you like that would be an insult to nature, to the night. Under stars bright as these, any artifice would be a crime. Though at the same time fear – fear that I’ll say something I cannot take back.” 

“Don’t be afraid,” she told him. She was surrounded by the perfume of night-blooming flowers. “Speak. I’ll listen. What would you say to me?” 

“Anything. Everything. I love you, it drives me mad. I love you so much that I can barely breathe. Your name rings in my heart like a festival bell, the note trembling within me whenever I think of you. You shine brighter than the sun, and like the sun when I look away your image is imprinted on everything I see.” 

“Balder…” 

“I would sacrifice any happiness to bring you joy, even if you never knew I did it. Every time you look at me, even if it’s only a glance, I want to be a better man, in the hope of someday being worthy of you. Do you understand? Do you feel it, feel the way my soul yearns for you? This moment feels too beautiful to be true. I could die now and be happy – but Sigyn, you’re shaking. Trembling like a leaf in the breeze.” 

She was shaking. His words had overwhelmed her. “Climb up to me,” she murmured. “Kiss me.” 

* 

Out of sight behind the bushes, Loki took a thoughtless step towards her, before he remembered himself. It was Balder who stood beneath the balcony, Balder whose voice he’d been imitating. Beautiful Balder was the man Sigyn loved, not him. 

* 

They’d kissed only once when there was a knock at Sigyn’s door. They sprang apart, and not a moment too soon because the person knocking had decided to let themselves into Sigyn’s room. Judging from the man’s garb, he was a priest. How had he managed to get past Ran? 

The priest looked between her and Balder sceptically. “Lady Sigyn. I had no idea you had a guest.” 

“Two guests, in fact,” said a familiar voice as Loki walked in behind the priest. “I only went out briefly to catch some fresh air, but I’m back now.” 

Sigyn gave an inward sigh of relief. Loki’s presence might stave off any potential rumours about Balder’s late-night visit. 

“I have a letter from Cul Borson,” the priest told her, handing over an envelope. 

Sigyn opened the letter, read it, suppressed her nausea, and turned to the priest. “I should like to discuss the contents of this letter with these two men privately, priest. I shall send for you once we are done talking.” 

The priest nodded and went to stand out in the corridor, shutting the door behind him. 

“What does the letter say?” asked Loki. 

Sigyn read it aloud. “‘Sigyn, I decided against leaving. I have taken the room I mentioned to you. One night before I leave for war. Trust me, I’ll make the time worth it – but know that defying me will carry consequences. I’ve never had to turn my hand to you before, but I’m sure you know how brutal I can be. This priest will take you to me. He has no idea what I want you for, believing his business to be the important work of government. Keep up the pretence with him for as long as it takes to come to me.’ Well, that’s disgusting.” 

“You’re not going to meet him?” said Balder, looking as uncomfortable as Sigyn felt. 

“Of course not, the man is vile. But clearly he’s never going to leave me alone. I’m so tired of trying to work around him – oh.” 

“What is it?” asked Loki. 

“I’ve just had an idea for how to make Cul leave me alone, permanently. I’ll need Balder’s permission, but I think it will work.” 

* 

They summoned the priest back in, and Sigyn informed him that Cul’s letter ordered her to marry Balder without delay. Ran was summoned to act as a witness, while Loki went outside to guard the house. When Sigyn didn’t meet with Cul, he might come looking for her, and if Cul barged in before the ceremony was complete then it would all be undone. 

But if everything worked, then Sigyn would end the night married to Balder, a man she could rely on. Cul would be able to do nothing once she was another man’s wife. 

* 

Sigyn had been so eager for the marriage, so desperate to be sure that it was not interrupted, that of course Loki had agreed to guard the house. 

Besides, it would be easier than staying, and having to watch her marry another man. 

After what he’d said under the balcony his soul felt raw and bare. 

But Sigyn’s heart belonged to another, she was being married even as he stood outside the house under the stars, and Sigyn needed him only as a watchman. 

But _gods_ , watching them kiss had felt like getting his heart ripped out. 

* 

He managed to delay Cul for a full ten minutes. Loki could be very irritating when he wanted to be. 

Cul was red in the face with Loki’s meaningless small talk by the time Sigyn, Balder, Ran, and the priest emerged from the house. Sigyn and Balder were beaming. 

“Good evening,” Sigyn said to Cul. 

“What is going on here?” Cul wasn’t bothering with pleasantries. 

“Sigyn has just been married to Balder,” Loki informed Cul. 

Cul turned on Sigyn. “You –” 

Balder touched a hand to the hilt of his sword. “I’ll ask you not to speak to my wife in that tone of voice.” 

Cul was still staring at Sigyn, fury in every line of his face. “Say goodbye to your husband, Lady Sigyn.” 

“Why? Where is he going?” 

“To war. As of right now, I have decided to mobilise the Crimson Hawks. Both Balder and Loki will be leaving Asgard as soon as possible.” 

Sigyn paled. “But – please, just one night, it’s our wedding night.” 

“No. They leave now. Any delay and I’ll have them both court-martialled, I don’t care if they both have noble blood.” Cul sneered at Loki, “Though one of them is the lord of a far-off land, and the other one’s only royal by adoption, so perhaps not so noble after all.” 

If he were any other man in Asgard, Loki would have slit Cul’s throat and be done. But Cul was in charge of the war effort, so he restrained himself. 

And the delay in Sigyn spending the night with Balder was not wholly unwelcome. 

Cul turned on his heel and left, the priest following behind. 

Slowly, Sigyn walked towards Loki. When she hugged him, he felt her shaking. “Keep him safe for me,” she whispered. “And keep yourself safe. And – oh, tell Balder to write.” 

“I will,” he murmured into her hair. “I promise.” 

After that, Sigyn embraced her husband, kissed him, then watched from the front step of her house as the two of them left for war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigyn isn’t quite like Roxane in this fic. Roxane is initially a precieuse. She’s intelligent, but she’s also naïve in believing that Christian’s beauty means that he’ll be equally intelligent and good with conversation. For Sigyn, however, things are different. Sigyn is used to being desired, and she’s tired of it. Her drilling Balder about how much he really loves her is partly a defence mechanism to stop herself from being used by a man who doesn’t truly love her. She doesn’t want to be hurt.
> 
> And the part where Loki says he’d give up happiness if it meant Sigyn would be happy? Yeah. That.


	4. The War

Loki sent the raven off early in the morning. Another letter for Sigyn. 

By now, those letters were the only lights in an otherwise dark existence. He and the Crimson Hawks had been sorely tested by the fighting, and now they were hemmed in by rock trolls on all sides. Their current camp was safe enough, but if they tried to move anywhere then an attack was certain. An attack that they might not survive. Supplies of food had run out five days before, and if it weren’t for yesterday’s rain then they’d be out of water as well. 

Morale was low, and by this stage Loki wasn’t even bothering with trying to keep his men happy. He just snapped at them to shut up if they started complaining. Criticising the situation they were in wouldn’t bring them any bread. 

A winged horse dropped from the sky. It was a testament to the Crimson Hawks’ exhaustion that they reacted so slowly as Cul slid down from the saddle. “Oh, please, don’t excite yourselves on my behalf.” He shot a cruel smile at Loki, and Loki knew that whatever orders Cul was about to give them, he wouldn’t like it. 

“Come, on!” said Cul, “I’m practically a war hero by now. Why, yesterday I charged the enemy three times. They were targeting me, and I was nearly captured, only then I decided to think like Loki and try cunning.” Cul shot him a pointed look, and Loki said nothing. “So,” Cul continued, “I tore off my cloak of office, so that the damn trolls couldn’t tell the difference between me and any other warrior. Once the trolls couldn’t tell who was leading our forces, I managed to rout them.” He looked at the exhausted solders smugly. 

“And where is your cloak now?” asked Loki nonchalantly. 

Cul shrugged. “On the battlefield somewhere. It would have been impossible to retrieve it.” 

Loki turned, entered his tent, and returned holding a bundle of cloth which he passed to Cul. Cul held it up; it was his cloak of office. “Where the Hel did you get this?” 

Loki waved a hand, as if to suggest that it had been a simple task. “I wanted to send a letter back home, so I went out to find a raven to enchant. They’re carrion eaters, so the battlefield was a natural place to look.” 

“But the archers –” sputtered Cul. 

“I’m good at dodging,” Loki replied flatly. A few of the Crimson Hawks sniggered at Cul behind their hands. 

“Anyway,” Cul boomed, trying to regain his composure, “We’ve managed to open a supply line to the east, and we’ve increased the number of troops stationed there to guard it. However, this means that the amount of support you men have over here is drained, and the trolls have likely noticed this. You should consider an attack imminent. I hereby order you to buy the rest of the army time.” 

Balder stood. “So, in other words, you’re going to let the rock trolls slaughter us.” 

Cul sniffed, uncaring. “Do your best to die as slowly as possible. But the fact is that the highest-ranking person here is a Jotunn and a second son, and the rest of you are even more disposable to me than him.” 

Cul mounted his pegasus and flew away. 

Balder kicked the ground. “Damn him.” 

“We’re the ones who are damned,” said Loki. “Even if we weren’t vastly outnumbered – which we are – it wouldn’t be an easy fight. Not when we’re all half-starved.” 

Balder moved closer so that nobody could risk overhearing them. “I – I’ll need to send Sigyn a letter then. To say goodbye. I wouldn’t want her to think that I went to my death not thinking about her.” 

Loki passed him a letter wordlessly. 

Balder read the first few lines before exclaiming – “There’s tearstains on this!” 

“No,” Loki lied, “It’s just raindrops, from yesterday. Just rain, but I suppose it wouldn’t be unbelievable for Sigyn to think that you wept while you wrote this.” 

“Thank you,” said Balder quietly. “Thank you for all the help you’ve given me.” 

Loki was about to reply when the sentry gave a shout. He had a dagger in each hand when he realised that the warriors were all looking at the sky. 

At least a hundred pegasi were descending on the camp. The riders landed them neatly before they sprung down. 

“Why do you all look so surprised?” asked Brunhilde, as she slid down off her steed, “You must have been able to see us coming from miles away.” 

The Valkyries. Had Odin sent the Valkyries as reinforcements? 

“What on earth…” said Loki, “Why are you here? Who sent you?” 

“Me,” said a familiar voice. All the women who’d just landed were dressed head to toe in white armour with sky-blue cloaks. All except one. Sigyn’s tunic and trousers were of dark green. 

Brunhilde clapped Sigyn on the shoulder. “Sigyn heard rumours around the palace that the Crimson Hawks were pinned down without supplies, so she stole a map and brought it to me. Odin might have decided to forget that women can fight, but I sure as Hel haven’t, so I got as many of the women together as I could and we all flew out. And it’s not just numbers we’ve brought you.” She reached into a saddlebag and tossed a bread roll to the nearest Crimson Hawk. “I still run the best damn tavern in all of Asgard.” 

As the Valkyries passed out food, the mood changed palpably until it was almost festive. Loki thought that they might actually have a chance. He’d be feeling optimistic if it weren’t for – “Sigyn. You need to get out of here. There’s going to be a battle, and soon.” 

Sigyn shook her head. “Loki, I’m very glad to see you, but I won’t leave. I may not be a warrior, but you’ll need medics and I’m as good a healer as any.” 

Balder butted in. “Sigyn, please, I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Sigyn kissed him softly and Loki tried not to watch. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said, “But I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying to help.” 

Loki said, “Sigyn, I need to borrow your husband for a moment,” and he led Balder away from everyone else to a gap between two tents. “We need to talk about the letters,” he told Balder. 

“The letters. What about them?” 

“There are…” oh, honesty hurt – “I have sent more letters than you think.” 

Balder frowned. “How many, then? Two a week? Three a week?” 

“Every day,” Loki admitted. 

“But –” 

“Loki,” called Sigyn, “I’d like some time with my husband, now.” 

Loki took the chance to escape. 

* 

They embraced, but when Sigyn pulled away, Balder looked worried. “Sigyn. Not to say that I don’t want to see you – I do, I really do – but why in all the gods’ names are you here?” 

Sigyn clasped his hands in hers. “Your letters. Why else?” 

“You came all the way here because of my letters?” 

“Of course.” She cupped his face in her palm. “Each one was so beautiful; I read them over and over again, and when I heard that the Hawks were pinned down at risk of attack, I couldn’t stay away. And I feel that I must beg forgiveness – to think that when you first caught my attention, it was because you were beautiful! I feel so ashamed.” 

“Sigyn –”

“Later on, once I knew you better, I loved you for both your beauty and your mind, but even that was shallow of me. I always hated how men claimed to love me only because of my beauty, and I’d been doing you the same disservice. But not anymore. Now I love you only for your mind. You’re handsome, but that doesn’t matter to me. What’s in your heart – that’s what counts. That’s all that counts, in the end.” 

“Sigyn?” 

“I don’t care about your appearance anymore. Even if you didn’t look like –” she gestured to Balder, “– like this, even if everyone else declared you ugly, I’d still love you just the same.” 

Balder seemed astonished. “I…” 

Brunhilde ran towards them. “Sigyn, one of the sentries took an arrow in the shoulder. Could you fix him up before the fighting starts?” 

Sigyn squeezed Balder’s hand. “I’ll be back when I can.” 

She rushed off to her first patient of the day. 

* 

Balder barged into Loki’s tent, his eyes wild. “She doesn’t love me.” 

“What?” 

Balder gestured at Loki. “Sigyn loves you.” 

“That’s not possible,” Loki replied sharply. 

“She said – gods – she said that she loved me for my mind only. And that means the letters, which means you.” 

“Me,” said Loki numbly. 

“And I know that you love her too,” Balder exclaimed. 

Loki backed off. “No, no I don’t –” 

“Don’t try to deny it. A letter every day – tearstains – damn you, you can’t hide it! Just tell her how you feel and be done.” 

Loki’s hands began to shake. “You know I can’t ever do that.” 

Balder’s voice was thick with emotion. “Why not?” 

“Look at me!” Loki hissed, the old rage igniting. “Or have you forgotten that I’m a Jotunn?” 

“She said she’d love me even if I wasn’t handsome – even if I was ugly.” 

Loki shook his head. “She may have said that, but you shouldn’t believe it. So far she’s been imagining my words coming from your face, your voice, your form. Just because she says that’s how she feels doesn’t make it true.” 

“Then we should find out,” said Balder resolutely. “Let her know the truth and choose between us.” 

Loki grasped at Balder’s sleeve and pulled him back before he could leave the tent. “No, please. Don’t do this to me.” If they told Sigyn the truth then Loki would lose her entirely – and she’d never once been truly his. 

Balder pushed Loki’s hand away. “Our marriage only had one witness, and Ran would lie for Sigyn if Sigyn asked her to do it. Our union was never even consummated. It would be the matter of a moment to dissolve it. I’m going to tell her the truth, and then she can choose: either you or me.” 

“She’ll choose you,” said Loki quietly. 

* 

Neither of them made it to Sigyn before the fighting started. 

When Loki looked back on it later, the battle passed in flashes. 

Fighting in a ring of Crimson Hawks, vaguely aware that Balder was somewhere to his left. 

Back to back with Brunhilde, her sword and his knives flashing equally fast. 

Then, somehow, he was on his own, and he could think only of the troll he was fighting and then cut down, and the one after that, and the next, and the next. 

When the battle was over he was cut and bruised in a dozen places, his blue skin streaked with red blood and grey dust. One of his knees felt like it was about to collapse, but he couldn’t let himself rest yet. He had to find Sigyn, and Balder too. 

Loki limped his way across the battlefield until he found the section of ground that the medics had commandeered. Sigyn was off to one side, crouched next to a fallen warrior. 

At first he found it strange. The man was clearly beyond saving, so why hadn’t Sigyn moved on to someone who her magic could heal? 

Then he realised that the dying man was Balder, and the world crashed down around him. 

It was all over. 

Perhaps if Balder had survived then they could have told Sigyn the truth, and there would have been a slim chance that she would choose him over Balder; a small chance at finding love, at finding happiness. 

But it was all over now. 

Sigyn’s hands were pressed to a huge gash in Balder’s side, sparks of magic dancing from her fingertips as she tried to close it, but the wound was huge and gaping, and her magic was already half-spent by the other lives she’d already saved. 

While Sigyn was fighting the losing battle for her husband’s life, Loki crouched by Balder’s ear and whispered one more lie: “I told her the truth, and she chose you.” There were shouts along the border of the camp; another wave of attackers. Loki stood. “Sigyn?” 

She looked up at him through her tears. “What?” 

“He wrote a letter for you. He should still have it somewhere on his person.” Briefly, he put his hand on her shoulder. “I have to go now; the battle’s not over, but once it’s done I’ll come back here and find you.” 

Loki strode in the direction of the enemy, drew his daggers, and prepared to fight, fervently wishing that he would die too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things in Cyrano de Bergerac that absolutely take me out:
> 
> 1\. Cyrano lied to Christian about Roxane choosing him so that Christian would die happy.
> 
> 2\. Cyrano wanting to die now that he knows he won’t be able to find love and happiness.


	5. Autumn

Sigyn had been wearing black for a long time now. 

Ten years was the standard Asgardian mourning period, and after fourteen years Sigyn was considered by wider society to really be stretching it out, especially since she was still a young woman, and had only been married for a few scant months. 

But being a widow granted her all kinds of protections. As long as she remained in mourning, no man could court her, and it gave her the excuse to stay in her estate outside Asgard, away from the intrigues of court. 

Still, it had been a long time. Long enough that lately she had been thinking about casting off her mourning. Balder’s death still hurt her – of course it did – but she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life on her own. Maybe it was time to take off her blacks and find someone new. 

Sigyn had a particular someone in mind. 

Every week since she’d moved out of her chambers in Asgard’s palace, Loki had come to visit her at her hall. He’d bring all the latest news, embroidered with choice pieces of wit, and it was without a doubt the highlight of her day. 

She wasn’t sure if he would want her like that, but he was her best friend, and for a prince, a friend was perhaps the best thing he could hope for in a marriage. As a second son he wouldn’t definitely be forced into a political match, but he’d still be expected to marry someone highborn, so why not Sigyn? She wouldn’t mind returning to the court of Asgard if it was as his wife. Being married would prevent her from having any suitors, and being by Loki’s side… the idea of being by his side held no small degree of appeal. 

It was warm for an autumn day, so she sat out in the garden. In pleasant weather the two of them always sat outside when Loki came for his weekly visit. He was always exactly on time; Sigyn would hear the chime of the clock and she wouldn’t even look around, because Loki would certainly be only a few seconds from sitting down beside her on the bench with a comment that was bound to make her smile. 

So Sigyn sat in the garden under the last of the day’s light and worked at a tapestry to pass the time. He’d be here soon. Perhaps today she could broach the topic of courtship, though she would have to raise the subject delicately. The last thing she needed was to ruin their friendship with clumsy words. Besides, there was no need to rush into anything. If she didn’t bring it up today, then there was always next week, and the week after that, and the week after that… 

The clock chimed. 

Loki didn’t come. 

Sigyn looked around. There was no sign of him in the garden. 

Where could he be? He was never late. Not once. 

But Loki was late now. 

At length, he came, though dusk was fast approaching by the time he sat beside her. 

“Still working on your tapestry, I see.” 

She set her sewing aside with a smile. “Loki. I thought you might not come.” 

“And miss the favourite part of my week? You know I would never.” 

“The garden’s beautiful this time of year,” Sigyn told him. “All those leaves changing colour.” 

Loki looked out at the garden. “Yes, they’re very beautiful. Beautiful even as they fall and die.” 

“Are you alright?” Sigyn asked softly. “You seem pale – pale and sad, that’s not like you.” 

He smiled at her, but it looked forced, almost pained. “No, I assure you I am well.” A pause. “Sigyn, that letter Balder gave you, the last letter… could I read it?” 

It seemed such a strange request, but why should she deny him? The letter was precious to her, but she knew that Loki knew that and would look after it accordingly. Sigyn took it from her pocket and handed it to him. 

“You keep it on you?” asked Loki, only looking slightly surprised. He opened the letter and read. “‘My dearest Sigyn, I fear this letter will be my last. Know that as I write my soul is filled with love for you, and my only regret is that I shall never see you again. I would give everything I have to see the golden shine of your hair, the way you hold your head, and my heart aches with longing.’” 

Sigyn stood and walked softly behind Loki so that she could read the letter over his shoulder as he continued; “‘My love, dearest jewel of my life, know that every beat of my heart belongs to you, and –’” 

“You’re not reading it,” Sigyn said numbly. 

“What?” Loki turned to look at her, “No, of course I am.”

Sigyn gestured at the garden, where plants had been reduced to vague shapes by sunset’s gloom. “It’s pitch dark out here, you can’t possibly be reading the letter. Not unless…” The revelation hit her full in the face. “Not unless you already knew what it said. Gods… fourteen years. You’ve kept up the pretence for fourteen years – my best friend, coming every day to tell me the news, make me laugh…” 

“Sigyn,” cried Loki, but she cut him off before he could say anything more. 

“It was you. You wrote the letters.” 

“No, never, I –” Loki seemed to be in almost physical pain. 

“I should have known – how did I not notice? I should have heard it in your voice every time you said my name.” 

“No, it wasn’t me!” 

“Except it was. All those beautiful, shining, gorgeous letters. And that night under the balcony… I always thought that Balder’s voice sounded different that night. Because it wasn’t him. It was you.” She took a ragged breath. “Did you love me?” 

Loki looked at her as if she had reached into his chest and crushed his heart with one hand. “Yes. I did. I do.” 

Sigyn took the letter from his hand. It was easy; he hadn’t been holding it very tightly. “These tearstains, are they yours?” 

“Yes,” said Loki, “But the blood is his.” 

Sigyn looked from Loki to the letter and back again. “Why did you never say anything? Fourteen years of silence – why?” 

He looked up at her with eyes of deepest red. “Because I had no right to –” 

“You fool!” yelled Thor as he stormed into the garden. 

“Hello brother,” said Loki, instantly putting on a veneer of nonchalance which Sigyn saw through like glass. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Thor cried. “Dammit, you didn’t even wait for the healer to come!” 

Sigyn looked between the two brothers. “What? Why would he need a healer? One of you, _tell me why Loki might need a healer._ ” 

With one hand, Loki reached up and pulled the neck of his tunic down. Even in the semi-darkness, Sigyn could see the black veins working their way up his neck. “Oh gods…” she breathed. 

“A dark elf raiding party,” Thor explained. “He fought them off single-handed and took a cursed arrow in the chest for his trouble. He left before anyone could get him to a healer.” 

“I thought you looked sick,” Sigyn breathed, “I thought you looked sick but you said you were well and… oh gods.” 

“Brother, you need help,” said Thor, but Loki wasn’t even looking at him. 

He was looking at Sigyn. “Do you remember,” he said softly, “That night when I stood under your window? Sometimes it feels like my whole life has been that way. I stay in the darkness while others climb up. They win love, and all I get is ash.” 

Sigyn took his face in her hands. “You are not going to die. I will not allow you to die; I love you.” 

His breathing was becoming more laboured. “You know,” he murmured, “There’s a Midgardian story where a woman tells a monster that she loves him, and he turns into a beautiful prince. But this is not a fairy tale, and that won’t ever happen to me.” 

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Sigyn said, weeping. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be safe to a healer by now. This is all my fault.” 

Loki’s eyes sharpened at that, and he clutched at her wrist. “No, Sigyn, you mustn’t say that. You have been a blessing to me. Not even my parents loved me; my father gave me away in return for a treaty with Odin, and Odin! Oh, Odin never cared. But you – your friendship has been worth more to me than diamonds. I can die content.” 

“No,” said Thor, “You cannot die like this.” 

Loki turned his eyes upwards to the sky. “There are worse places to die than under the starlight.” 

Sigyn took one of her hands away from Loki’s face to brush away her tears. He looked away from the sky and back at her. 

“Sigyn,” he said, “Balder loved you dearly. It wouldn’t be right for me to ask you to stop mourning for him. But please, after I’m gone, would you think of me, sometimes?” 

“I promise,” Sigyn said, her voice thick with tears. 

Loki struggled to his feet. “I won’t die sitting down.” 

He swayed dangerously, and Sigyn darted around the bench so that he could lean on her. She couldn’t remember if they’d ever held each other like this before. 

A moment later, he fell into her arms and did not rise. 

Sigyn knelt over him, then looked up at Thor, tears streaming down her cheeks. When she spoke, there was something in her voice as hard as steel. “Help me carry him inside.” 

“Sigyn –” 

“I already said: _I will not allow him to die_.” 

* 

Loki woke, which was unexpected. For a moment he wondered if he was dead, but the pain in his chest gave lie to that assumption. 

He opened his eyes. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Sunlight streamed through the half-open curtains, revealing Thor sitting in a chair in one corner. When he saw that Loki was awake, he stood and walked over to the side of the bed. 

“You’re lucky to be alive.” 

Loki said hoarsely, “Well, mostly I’m surprised to be alive.” He groped at his wound and found thick bandages under a loose black undershirt. 

Thor passed him a cup of water. “Sigyn’s healing magic… I’ve never seen anything like it. She was exhausted afterwards.” He headed to the door. “She asked me to wake her up once you were conscious.” 

Sigyn. What was left for the two of them now that she knew the truth? Loki finished the water and set the empty cup down on the bedside table. “No, don’t. I’ll leave. I’ll go; don’t wake her, Thor.” 

Thor glanced back at him, then said, “You can’t avoid this, brother,” and left. 

* 

After Thor had woken her, Sigyn rose, washed, and dressed herself with more than a small amount of care. The dress she picked out was not one of widow’s black, but the pale green of fresh spring leaves. 

Her reflection looked strange to her; it was the Sigyn of decades past, before the heartbreak. Fourteen years since she last wore something that wasn’t black. 

When she entered the guest room that she’d left Loki in, she found him sitting on the bed. 

“You should still be lying down,” she told him. At least he hadn’t interfered with his bandages. She’d managed to draw out the arrow’s curse, but his wound was deep and would need diligent care if he wanted to avoid infection. 

“Forgive me if I’d rather have this conversation upright.” 

At first Sigyn couldn’t read his face but then she realised; he was ashamed. She had never seen that emotion on Loki before. 

“We need to talk,” she said, and stood opposite him. “The letters.” 

“Were all written by me.” 

“Because you were in love with me.” 

“Yes.” 

Sigyn took a handkerchief out of her pocket. It was old, and she might not have recognised it as one she had once owned if it weren’t for the small bloodstain in its centre; it was the one she had used to bind up his hand after he’d fought off a hundred men defending Kvasir all those years ago. “I found this in your pocket while I was treating you. At first I couldn’t believe it, you keeping it all this time.” She passed it to Loki and he wordlessly tucked it into his pocket. Sigyn ran a hand through her hair. “Why, Loki? By the gods, why did you write those letters?” 

“I wanted to see you happy,” he confessed. “Balder was absolutely devoted to you, and you returned his affection. I thought he’d make a loving husband, so I helped him court you.” 

“It would have been a lie. Those letters weren’t his words, they didn’t come from him, they barely had anything to do with him.” 

“I know. And I am sorry.” 

Sigyn felt the fabric of her skirt bunch under her fingers. “I forgive you,” she said. 

Loki held her gaze. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Perhaps not. What you and Balder did – it was wrong, it was dishonest. But I can’t find it within myself to hate Balder, and I can’t find it within myself to hate you. That would only bring pain to both of us, and we’ve each had more than enough of that.” She sighed. “If you were in love with me, then why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? You had years. Decades.” 

“You know why,” said Loki. “I’m a monster, a Jotunn. I wouldn’t ask you to love that.” 

Sigyn sat down beside him. “You don’t need to ask me; I already love you. And you were never a monster. Never.” 

He shook his head and shifted his position on the bed so that there was a little more distance between them. “Sigyn, you found out about the letters yesterday. And loving the letters is different from loving _me _.”__

__She took his hand, and he looked down at the touch; creamy skin against Jotunn blue. “I was in love with you before I found out about the letters. I was considering ending my mourning for you.”_ _

__“That’s not possible.”_ _

__“Why? You’re my best friend; you’ve been my closest companion for fourteen years. Why shouldn’t I want you?”_ _

__Loki ran a hand over his face. “Because of what I am. Setting aside the fact that my appearance could never be anything but repulsive to you: I am a Jotunn. Being a prince of Asgard has never made that easier. Some days I suspect that it makes it harder. For us to be together would be to open you up to ridicule from all sides. No Asgardian has ever married a Jotunn before, and for good reason.”_ _

__Sigyn reached out with one hand and turned his face towards her. “I believe there have already been enough words said about why looks don’t matter. But for what it’s worth: you are beautiful. You have always been beautiful. I didn’t know that you didn’t believe that. As for the rest… I know that a future with you would open me up to censure. But it would be worth it, to spend my life with you.”_ _

__She kissed him. His lips were cool against her mouth, and it was everything she could have wanted in that moment. Loki put his arms around her, drawing her close. Her fingers slid up into his hair._ _

__Sigyn lost track of time. By the time they pulled apart they were both breathless._ _

__“Were you really going to end your mourning so that I could court you?” Loki asked._ _

__Sigyn gestured to the green of her dress. “Haven’t I just done that?” Neither of them could stop smiling._ _

__Loki kissed her again, long and deep. “Royal engagements can take a long time. Odin may make trouble about our match, and Cul certainly will, but with enough determination I think we can manage it.”_ _

__Sigyn rested her forehead against his. She could feel the faint ridges of his markings against her skin. “In the meantime, nobody can stop you from courting me. Though I should warn you: even though we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, I will expect you to write. I’d like very, very long letters.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how Loki described Fandral as treating women as if they were as disposable as handkerchiefs? And Sigyn gave Loki her handkerchief, and Loki kept it forever?
> 
> Of course, in the original play, Cyrano dies, but Angst with a Happy Ending is one of my favourite tropes. Loki and Sigyn will have long and happy future together.


End file.
